


The Dating Game

by SapphireMusings



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: First Dates, Humor, M/M, Nervousness, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireMusings/pseuds/SapphireMusings
Summary: It all started with“I remember being surprised when he asked me out.”
Relationships: Chakotay/Tom Paris
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Janeway

**Author's Note:**

> Noelle posted a challenge to CPSG—Start a story with the following as a first line: “I remember being surprised when he asked me out.”
> 
> Original Publication—Chapter 1-3: 2001-2002.
> 
> 2020: There might possibly be new chapters coming.

##  **CHAPTER 1**

##  **Janeway**

I remember being surprised when he asked me out. Then I saw that smirk in his eyes. The same smirk he had when he gazed down upon me at the Auckland Penal Colony. The smirk I have come to learn is sometimes a defense mechanism against strangers but also a form of affection for friends. I may be his captain but I think somewhere deep down, even if he doesn’t consider me a friend, he most certainly considers me family.

Still, it came as a surprise when he asked me out, until I looked across my desk to the other man sitting beside him and saw my first officer’s pained look. It was then I truly began to understand. Baiting Chakotay is a favorite past time of Tom’s. It has also turned into a form of courtship, if not outright foreplay.

My first officer and chief helmsman seem reluctant to confront their feelings for each other, but it has become painfully obvious in recent months, to me at least, that they’re on a collision course to fall into bed together. Sometimes I wonder if there is more than mere lust involved. There does seem to be an attraction that goes deeper than the need for a quick roll in the hay.

So here we sit in my office, Chakotay, Tom Paris and me, their captain, and I have just been asked out by a junior officer. Obviously the junior officer is having a little fun and is certain I’ll turn him down.

Think again, Lieutenant Paris.

I bury the unprofessional attitude wanting to leap out and swat Tom Paris and put on my best Indulgent Captain Smile, hoping my glittering eyes won’t give me away.

“Thank you for the invitation, Tom.” I watch him turn expectantly toward me, his whole demeanor anticipating a refusal. “I’d love to join you for dinner in Sandrine’s tonight.” I watch with a great deal of amusement as his mouth opens and shuts several times like a fish out of water. Got you, Lieutenant Paris.

“Uh, that would be great, Captain.” He barely avoids stammering. “1900 be all right with you? Shall I come by your cabin to escort you to dinner?” He realizes he’ll be babbling any second now and snaps his mouth shut.

I barely suppress the grin wanting to escape. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. I think I can manage to get myself there.” I have every intention of making An Entrance at Sandrine’s tonight. I’m looking forward to seeing a few jaws drop.

I glance at Chakotay to see how he’s handling all this. He isn’t exactly slack-jawed but then Chakotay isn’t the sort to gape. I catch him giving Tom a wary look that is a combination of admiration at the other man’s audacity, discouragement over not having the nerve himself to ask Tom out, and displeasure that Tom asked me rather than him. Perfect. I wonder if Chakotay has a clue just how far gone he is on Tom Paris.

And then there is Tom himself, who runs hot and cold with Chakotay and at times purposely causes friction between the two of them. Another Paris defense mechanism. I suspect Tom’s head and heart are at war with each other over the wisdom of getting involved with Chakotay. Personally, I’m rooting for his heart to come out ahead.

They obviously need a nudge, and right now I’m in the perfect position, thanks to Thomas Eugene Paris, to do so. I mentally add matchmaker to my list of official duties. They don’t stand a chance.

I gaze at them expectantly. “Well, gentlemen, if we’re finished here, I have some work to get completed before I call it a day. I’ll review your reports on the helm improvements and get back to you. Dismissed.” It occurs to me that Chakotay hasn’t said a word since the dinner date conversation started. No matter. I know his curiosity will get the better of him and he’ll be in Sandrine’s tonight to witness the ‘date’ from afar.

When the two men reach the door to my ready room, I can’t resist one more jab. “Mr. Paris.” Both of them turn back at my summons. Oh yes, Chakotay is definitely on the prowl now. I lower my voice to a more intimate level. “I look forward to dinner tonight, Tom.”

Tom swallows but somehow still manages to give me one of those smarmy looks of his. “Yes, ma’am.”

I nearly wince at the ‘yes, ma’am,’ recalling how I once told a green ensign by the name of Harry Kim, in the presence of an amused Tom Paris, that crunch time was the only time he would ever be ‘ma’aming’ me. I certainly hope Tom isn’t viewing this dinner date with me as crunch time.

Once the door slides shut behind Tom and Chakotay, I lean back in my chair and let loose a delighted peal of laughter. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in ages.


	2. Chakotay

##  **CHAPTER 2**

##  **Chakotay**

I show up in Sandrine’s a good half hour before Paris and Kathryn are due. I don’t want it to look like I’m only there to spy on them, although that’s exactly why I am there and I know they’ll know that. Parking myself at the bar, I accept a glass of red wine Sandrine recommends.

I try to avoid getting into a bout of self-analysis but I end up there anyway. Just what am I doing here in Sandrine’s tonight? And what are my feelings for Paris? Do I think he’s good looking? Well, yes. You’d have to be a trapped in a black hole to not be able to see how gorgeous the man is. Do I like him? That one is more difficult. Most of the time I do like him but sometimes he really pisses me off. I consider how he usually goes about it and discover, much to my consternation, that it’s usually when he’s flirting with others. Chakotay, wake up, man. That’s called jealousy.

Damn.

I not only want to have ground-thudding sex with him but I want to get to know him better. And damn it all if Paris doesn’t flirt with me every chance he gets. The man is definitely interested but seems oddly shy about making the first move. I guess it’s up to me then.

And how the hell did we end up with me in Sandrine’s spying on him and Kathryn Janeway on a date? A _date?_ It’s not a date. It’s another attempt to piss me off. Which means, in Paris speak, he’s flirting with me again.

Oh gods. The man is going to wear me out.

My involuntary self-analysis is interrupted when Paris saunters into Sandrine’s. I hide my reaction behind a sip of wine, watching as Paris’ eyes scan the room. His gaze flits past me then abruptly slides back, capturing me in that intense but humorous blue regard of his. His eyes crinkle slightly and my eyes move downward to see if he is indeed smiling. There’s something that’s not quite a smirk hovering on those lips. Before I know what’s happening, I’m having fantasies about those lips and where I’d like them to be. Then the lips disappear and I find myself watching him walk toward the back of Sandrine’s. This view isn’t so bad either. I like the way the brown suede trousers cup Paris’ rear assets.

Paris takes up residence at a secluded and slightly shadowed table. Sandrine is at his side immediately and the Paris charm goes up another notch. I can hear her laughter and Paris’ answering chuckle. I have no idea what’s said between the two of them but can’t help but be suspicious when Sandrine gives me a loaded wink on her way back to the bar. 

Further musings are interrupted when an uncommon hush falls over the crowd in Sandrine’s. Having a hunch, I swivel back around to face the door and see Kathryn Janeway gliding in, and gliding in a most feminine way. No sign of the captain is in sight except in her regal bearing, which is nearly laid to waste by the overpowering sexuality oozing off her. I’ve seen Kathryn make entrances before but nothing like this.

She’s wearing a low-cut coppery brown velvet gown that compliments her coloring. I see jaws dropping around the room as several of our crewmembers suddenly realize their captain has breasts. It isn’t until she’s halfway across the room that I can see what those near the door are gaping at. There is no back to her dress. Well, hardly any back. It dips down in a vee to just above her buttocks and her shapely rear is cupped gently in velvet that falls in clinging folds around her legs.

Despite the show-stopping woman before me, my gaze moves past her to look at Tom. He’s standing beside the table looking stunned. He’s never looked more edible. I want him. Badly. And my body wastes no time catching up with the visuals in my head.

I swivel back around to face the bar to hide the physical evidence, only to find Sandrine waiting and I feel myself falling into a nicely laid trap. She and Paris have been plotting again.

“They make a lovely couple, no?”

“No—I mean yes.”

“Thomas has a tiger by the tail tonight, I think, hmmm, Commander?”

I sip my wine, avoiding Sandrine’s knowing gaze until her hand falls on mine in an understanding pat.

“Do not concern yourself, Commander. He still has eyes for you.”

“Maybe that’s not such a good thing,” I mumble, then immediately wish I could retract it. Commander-with-heart-on-his-sleeve is not the image I really want to give out.

“You just have to know how to handle Thomas,” Sandrine offers knowingly.

Unable to resist, I have to ask. “So what’s the secret?”

“That there is no handling Thomas.” Sandrine smiles at me confidingly. “You play with Thomas. Do not handle him. His father handled him. He has great distaste for that.”

“Play . . .” I trail off, not understanding at all.

“Play, Commander.” And with that she is gone and I am even more lost. Play? I’m so deeply engrossed in trying to figure that puzzle out I forget to watch what’s happening on the other side of the room, until Kathryn Janeway’s delighted laughter floats across to me.

I turn slightly to steal a look. Tom is looking more relaxed now, maybe too relaxed. He shouldn’t be that relaxed around the captain. Wait. What’s she doing? _What is she doing?_

I sit back once I realize I’m leaning forward as if about to charge off the barstool and play conquering Neanderthal. It’s only her hand on his shoulder. It’s not like that shoulder belongs to me—yet. I catch myself scowling slightly and then it hits me, with the force of a meteorite unchecked, that I’m in trouble.

I’ve got the hots for Tom Paris. I want to fuck him from here to the next plane of existence. I want to feel him wrapped around me, moaning, pushing against me for more.

And I’ve got to get out of here, before I make a fool of myself.

I give the dinner duo one last glance before quickly making my escape. I head for my quarters, trying to decide if it’s worth giving up all sense of dignity to get my hands on Paris. And there’s no hesitation in the reply.

Yes. Yes, it is.


End file.
